Dog Fight
by Iridian's Legacy
Summary: The Dog Fights occur whenever new recruits arrive at The Boiling Rock. On the left side: a plucked-from-the-helmet newbie, itching to make his mark. On the right: a prisoner in need of some roughing up. (NO SLASH. NO ZUKKA/SUKO. T for violence)
1. Reunion

**A/N: I always wondered what it would be like if Sokka actually had to rough Zuko up a bit in the episode _The Boiling Rock_. Here's my take on what might have happened and how. **

**THIS IS NOT A SEXUAL FIC. **

**I wanted a clean, friend-beats-friend Zuko whump that did not involve him getting raped for once and, so far, I haven't found one. So I decided to be the change and voil****à****! I have brought you my new creation! Enjoy :3**

**You know the usual "I own nothing speech" so I'll just let the known unspoken remain unspoken ^^**

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The thick cell door slid open with an ominous squeal against the iron prison walls. As the wheels worked and strained against age and wear, light flooded into the dark room, illuminating the rugged panels that made the walls and floor. The Fire Nation armor Sokka had adorned to camouflage with the guards was heavy and scorching, which shouldn't have come as a surprise to him all things considering, but that didn't change how uncomfortable the leather outfit was against his skin. Growing up in the South Pole had forced him to grow accustomed to freezing weather. This new environment was torture on his Water Tribe skin.

But as he stepped into the cage-like cell, a chill ran down his soaked spine. He couldn't be entirely sure of its origin—there were too many factors to consider. In his short time at the Boiling Rock, he had heard many rumors about the cells being cooled, a precaution against those prisoners who were gifted with the power of firebending. There was no possibility of a prisoner getting the drop on a visiting guard this way, at least not through the way of flame. So, perhaps his body's tremor was the result of the sudden atmospheric temperature shift.

The more likely reason was his blue eyes falling on the figure in front of him. Each cell was furnished with a single filthy mattress lying on a raised platform against the back wall. The prison didn't even provide a pillow for the slightest bit of comfort against the rough mat, nor a blanket to shield one's body from the cold. The thought of a pale, shivering form lying bruised and withered in the darkness of this room made Sokka's gut drop, and it was this same thought that whisked him back to reality and forced his hands to shut the door behind him, leaving the room in almost complete darkness. The sliver of a window at his back was a saving grace for whoever was condemned to this dreadful room. His shadow cast across the cell's dweller, but even so, the two dark eyes at the head of the mattress sparkled like stars.

The woman who lay before him, clad in rusty red prisoner's garb, appeared almost at ease. Her slender arms bent back and served as a makeshift pillow while she stared up at the ceiling, expressionless. A brown ponytail held back bangs while the rest of her locks sprawled neatly out, framing her face delicately.

Suki. So he wasn't imaging her face out of desperation back in the courtyard.

At the sound of a guard entering her room, she shifted, glancing over at the door and frowning deeply. She was no longer stoic. Sokka recognized that face as one of a warrior, displaying hatred, annoyance, determination. He barely suppressed a growing smile. He approached her, keeping a distance and crossing his arms authoritatively. As much as he wanted to rip this cursed armor off of his body and embrace Suki, crying for joy that they were at last together again, he held back. He wanted to see if she could tell it was him. She was smart, she was sure to figure it out.

Suki shot up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "What is it? Did I do something wrong?" she questioned. Why else would a guard drop in on her? She fully expected him to answer with a snide, "Yes. Come with me," and then she'd be off to an unimaginable and unjust punishment for a crime never committed. Such was the way of the Fire Nation; they had an untouched habit of finding any excuse to make examples of the innocent.

Instead, the guard, who sounded much too young to be in such a dreadful place, answered with a sly, "You mean you don't recognize me?" His blue eyes were barely visible through his crimson mask. The smile on his face made Suki sick.

She angrily turned her face away. "You people all look the same to me," was her mumbled reply.

"Oh?" he responded. And for a second, Suki feared she would be punished. Had she just insulted him? You could never know with these people. They could take any little thing the wrong way. But he just continued, "Then maybe you'll recognize this..." He took a few steps toward her and leaned down, pursing his lips.

Fear petrified Suki's bones. She had heard stories, whispered tales, of unspeakable things done in Fire Nation prisons. They were rarely talked about, they were so nauseating, but she had heard enough to wonder in these few seconds if she would share the fate of those who lay at the base of these rumors.

But the fear was soon suppressed by an overwhelming anger. She had been through too much in these past days (had it been a week?) and this was the straw that was breaking her back. She was a girl, but she was also a warrior, and right now, that instinct was taking over. She shot her hand up and gripped the guard's cheeks, holding none of her strength back when she followed up with a direct shove to his abdomen. She thought she heard a crack as he slammed into the cell door a good three meters away from where he was standing previously.

That hideous Fire Nation helmet came clattering off, rolling down shielded shoulders and landing by his feet. Sokka grunted, eyes filled with bewilderment as he steadied himself on the chilly metal floor. _Maybe I should've just taken the helmet off to start with. She's going to kill me!_ But Suki, with her arm outstretched and prepared for a fight, stayed her experienced hand and drew in a sudden deep breath. Her eyes grew wide, her mouth agape.

"Sokka!" she cried. What was so heavy in her voice? Ah, yes. Relief. Without a second thought she dashed forward and leapt onto her savior, wrapping her arms around his strong neck and shoulders. "It's you!" She knew it. She knew he would come. That witch, Azula, had told her otherwise so many times, cutting her deep with the promise that she was forgotten, that her love was even dead, slain and burned to a crisp by her own wicked hands. Suki knew Sokka better, though. Her faith never faltered, even when Azula had brought forth a scrap of blue cloth, false evidence that her fellow warrior was never coming for her. She could never believe these lies, for if she succumbed to such a poison, her mind would falter. Surely she would have gone mad with sorrow.

But here he was, in the flesh, rescuing her from a fate worse than death.

At first too shocked to react right away, Sokka returned Suki's embrace and cradled her head lovingly, taking a second to run his fingers through her dark hair. He had longed for this moment since they had departed at the the Serpent's Pass, bidding one another farewell with a kiss. His heart stopped dead in its tracks at the sound of a muffled sniff into his neck. Sure enough, he felt a wetness landing on his bare biceps. He had never seen Suki cry before. He pulled her in closer, wrapping an arm tightly around her waist.

Suki responded by tightening her own grip around Sokka, realizing that he must have noticed her light tears and quickly set to wiping them away. Tears were for later. Sokka probably had a plan in action. Sure enough, he gently pulled away and met Suki's chocolate eyes, red-rimmed and glazed over.

"The other Kyoshi warriors—are they here?" he asked, helping her to her feet, mind once again returning to the plan.

Suki lowered her eyes. "No. I don't know where they are. They locked me in here because I'm the leader!" One of the disadvantages of the job: responsibility. If something happens to your soldiers, it's the leader's fault, no matter what happened. Guilt and anger tugged at her heart, constantly being pushed back by the knowledge that she and her warriors were (as much as she hated to admit it) outmatched back in the woods when faced with Azula and her minions. That was the only fact keeping her from giving up her title as Kyoshi leader.

Sokka placed a warm and gentle hand on her cheek. "Well, you won't be here for long." The message, unspoken until now, was music to her ears. "I'm busting you out."

"I'm _so_ glad to see you, Sokka," she whispered. She locked his hand with hers. "I knew you'd come."

Sokka smiled softly. As a warrior, the mere thought of being believed in, relied upon, and trusted by those you love is in and of itself a great blessing. Having someone confirm it is even greater. Without another word, the two leaned in and embraced, sealing their trust with a tender kiss.

It was short-lived, however, for a knock came at the door. Sokka and Suki broke. "Zuko," he whispered.

Suki frowned. "Zuko? He's here, too?" Her eyes went wide. "Does he know you're here? What if he sees you? Sokka, go—"

"No, no, no," he hushed. "Zuko's with me. Well, he's with all of us now. He's good; he's changed."

Only a flash of hesitation crossed through her eyes before she nodded and stuttered, "Uh...well, good. Good for him. But, what is he knocking..."

_"Excuse me, I need to get into that cell."_

In an instant, Sokka had Suki down on the ground, crouching at the base of the door. He held a finger to his lips.

_ "No! You can't go in there," _came a startled voice. Then a pause.

_Come on, Zuko, think of something! _

_ "The...lights are out. The prisoner could sneak up on you." _

Sokka had to refrain from smacking a palm to his forehead. _Seriously? Out of everything you could have said?_

The following silence seemed like an eternity while they waited for the female guard's response.

_"Step aside, fool!"_ she ordered. _"Hey, hey! What're you doing!"_

The door behind Sokka and Suki erupted with a crash, thundering and shaking.

"She didn't buy it!" Suki exclaimed.

"There's no real surprise there," Sokka mumbled. He made a note to talk to Zuko about improvising when they got out of this mess..._if_ they got out, that is.

The door shook a second time, only the grunt that coincided with it was that of a male. Even with Zuko's skills in hand-to-hand combat, the guards here were far more experienced in tussles like these. Zuko relied mostly on his bending, and it would not be good for either of them if he injured or killed one of the guards.

Sokka had to get out of there. He picked up the Fire Nation helmet by his feet, reluctantly slipping it back on. Man, it was hot under there. A hand lay on his shoulder. He turned to look into Suki's eyes; his heart cracked straight down the middle. Her eyes were screaming one thing loud and clear, a phrase that Sokka couldn't bear.

_Please, don't leave me._

He knew it didn't subside Suki's fears, but he said it anyway: "I'll be back for you. I promise. Don't be afraid."

The plea didn't weaken in the least, but he knew that he couldn't stay with her. With one last reassuring smile, he rose and slid the door open just enough for his body to slide through, past the duo that struggled valiantly outside the cell. Zuko was winning, that was good. Still, if another guard came around the corner and saw the fight, if Sokka was in on it too, they'd both be vulture wasp meat.

So, as inconspicuously as possible, he took a sharp left and quickly made his way down the hall, away from the struggle. The corner was just up ahead. He was halfway there...

"Guard! Help!" Sokka stopped dead in his tracks. So close. He turned back. "I think he's an imposter! Ah! Arrest him!"

What now? He couldn't make a run for it! Pretend he didn't hear her? Yeah, like anyone would believe that later. So...what? Sokka did the only logical thing he could think of.

He stood and watched the struggle while he contemplated his options. And at the moment, there were really only two he could think of: help Zuko; or help the guard.

"Get him off me and arrest him!" she shouted. Well, that was an easy choice.

Sokka rushed up and took Zuko by the arm, off of their intruder. He could not ignore the look of utter shock on Zuko's face when he swung him around and pushed him to the floor. "You're under arrest!" he proclaimed for affect, pulling Zuko's arm up and back for immobilization. The grunt he released when his face hit the hard floor sent a pained feeling down Sokka's spine. He'd apologize for that later. It sounded like it hurt.

He pulled the Boiling Rock's newest prisoner from the floor, keeping his arms behind his back. "Don't worry. I'll figure it out," he whispered to his comrade. He didn't wait for a response knowing that he could not receive one. The female guard was clutching her left shoulder in pain behind them as he led Zuko down the hall.

_ Serves ya right. You ruined my reunion._

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**A/N: This felt like a good place to stop. I tried making it all one chapter but it felt like a run-on. This will be a two-shot at least, but if I feel like it's necessary or I just want to add another little blurp, I'll do that (probably not though :P). **

**Hope you enjoyed it and hope you visit the second chapter for the actual action. This was just a lead in (and yes, the moments with Suki _are_ relevant). **

**Love you all and thanks ^^**


	2. Saved For Later

**A/N: I've decided that this story will be 4-5 chapters. The next chapter will be where the action/whumping occurs. I'm sorry if you feel I lied, but it just fell that way :( hopefully, you will still enjoy ^^**

**Don't own anything, yadayada**

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The guard directed Sokka to another area in the prison. He didn't dare try to whisper anything else to Zuko from behind; suspicious eyes baked his helmet's as they slowly burned tiny holes through the back. She must have noticed his pause before he ran over and pulled Zuko away. She was making sure that he was who he was. The thought of being discovered was a sickening one, and the torches that lined the walls glared down at him, reflecting every mistrustful thought running through the female's head. He wondered how _Zuko_ was feeling right now.

Keeping his act together had proven difficult in that short time. She had given him a proper set of cuffs to restrain Zuko with. As Sokka applied them, he had tightened the bindings a little extra for believability, adding a comment like, "Serves ya right" when Zuko grunted softly against the discomfort. That would have been enough, but Sokka's reactions under pressure can be...unpredictable. Sometimes, he keeps his cool, and others, his mouth doesn't know when to close.

This was one of the latter instances, so every time his new friend would tell him to go left or right, Zuko would have to endure Sokka's rough pulls around corners and an over-dramatic, "Get over there!" or push forward. They all looked and sounded better in his head. Once they had been done, though, he felt absolutely awful. It wasn't until they were halfway to where they were headed that Sokka realized he was holding Zuko's forearms far too tightly.

Two of the woman's fellow guards (well, they were Sokka's now, too, he supposed) stood at leisure, leaning on opposite walls, conversing softly. One glanced up mid-sentence at the party that approached. The other followed his gaze. Sokka was too far away to clearly make out the looks of concerned confusion beneath their helmets, but he could take a guess as to what they were thinking. Zuko was still clad in his Fire Nation uniform. It's not everyday that you see a fellow guard in the custody of another.

The taller of the two pushed himself off the wall with his hefty shoulders. His voice was deep as he called, "What's all this, Maya?"

The group came to a stop in front of the two. Before he even had time to comprehend what was happening, Maya pushed past and took Zuko, out of his grasp, by the arm. She did not stop advancing as she brought her own arm back (and by extension, Zuko) and flung the smaller body down onto the metal floor before the tall man's feet. The only sound produced by his friend was a muffled grunt as his shoulders contacted the floor with a heavy thud and slid a couple of inches. His hands, still bound at the small of his back, were unable to stop the fall. It took all of Sokka's self restraint to not rush forward and help his accomplice up.

The armor that still covered Zuko seemed to have given him enough protection against a worse fall. It must not have hurt as much as it looked, because Zuko immediately struggled to sit up, hardly fazed. He writhed against the metal floor uselessly for a split second, trying to use his shoulders and torso to propel himself up, but his futile attempts were met by Maya's booted foot to his armored back. She pressed hard between his shoulder blades, immobilizing the young prince. He could do nothing more than turn his head, still hidden beneath his helmet, and wait.

The following silence was heavy. Maya was pushing unnecessarily hard down on Zuko's back. Her eyes stared equally hard down at his, narrowed and searching. For what, Sokka could only guess. He saw Zuko's pained, rhythmic breathing beneath her, caused by the pressure of both her foot and the situation he found himself in. For a second, everyone thought she was going to suffocate him right there, condemned without a trial.

Instead, her gaze broke. "This man tried to stop me from entering a prisoner's cell. He even went so far as to attack." The two other guards looked at one another, then to Zuko. "I have no doubt in my mind he's an imposter."

"Well who is he, then?" the taller asked, crossing his arms.

Oh no.

"_Well_, Wen, let's find out," Maya retorted, as if speaking to a small child. She gestured for him to take her place keeping Zuko still. Wen yanked him up by the arms and held him back on his knees. The intensity of the situation hit Zuko like a brick, and he began twisting and grunting against Wen's stronger hands. "Get off me!" He and Sokka both realized then just how dire the circumstances were.

If Zuko were discovered...

Oh no.

His struggling became more persistent. He managed to break free from Wen's iron grasp long enough to leap to his feet and make a break for it. A spark of hope erupted in Sokka's chest...until the second guard tackled Zuko back to the ground. As small as he was, his weight was enough to pin his catch beneath him. His elbow found the back of Zuko's neck and his torso kept the rest of him frozen.

For a split second, Sokka, completely losing his bearings, readied himself for combat. From his place off to the side, he clenched his fists and broke into half a battle stance, putting on the face of a warrior. His eyes shone with dark determination, and had he had his sword with him, it would have been drawn and at the ready, gleaming, itching to slay the ones who threatened those he cared about.

It was an image to make Suki proud.

And then he met Zuko's gaze. He turned his head far enough to see Sokka, ready for a fight, ready to leap in and save the day, and his eyes grew to the size of saucers. Sokka's muscles relaxed. Zuko was sending a message.

_Don't._

That was the _last_ thing Sokka expected. He thought that Zuko would want him to do anything in his power to keep his presence a secret. If his father discovered he was here, the entire operation would be in jeopardy even more so than it was now. Who knows what Fire Lord Ozai would do to them! It seemed he would defy all sorts of limits to eliminate the Avatar. Zuko knew more than anyone the extents of his father's savagery. He'd be mad if he wasn't afraid of another confrontation with him.

And yet, Zuko's face continued to scream _Don't you dare! _He understood that Zuko wouldn't want him to compromise his own concealment within the Boiling Rock, but this was serious! He and Zuko could take these guys! If not, he'd still find a way to escape! _Come on, Zuko, let me at 'em!_

_ Don't._

Sokka relaxed, furious, at himself and Zuko, that he must be restrained. It is not in a warrior's nature to take it lightly when he is set to the side, saved for later.

"Thank you, Lee."

Wen and Lee brought Zuko back to his knees, forcing his head down even though his struggling had ceased. Silently, he awaited his unveiling.

Maya slowly approached Zuko's bowed head and crouched. "You _really_ don't want to be found out, do you?" she guessed, eyes narrowing.

Her prisoner simply lifted his head and stared straight back at her. They sat, unmoving, locked in a silent Battle of Gazes. Neither were going to give in.

But something was off. One of this boy's eyes were...different. It looked swollen, deformed. Yes, his right eye was definitely wider than the other. The top of his left cheek, under his visor, was a gruesome shade of red and pink. The skin was raw and...

...scarred.

Maya gasped and ripped the imposter's helmet off, flinging it away. She must have taken it off at a wrong angle, because his head ripped to the side and he made a pained noise. His head was now turned in such a way that put the entire left side of his face on display. Black bangs fell into his damaged golden eye.

Maya, for a moment, could do nothing but stare in shock. Lee and Wen let out their own quiet gasps, realizing just who it was they were restraining.

Sokka watched the event closely. He couldn't be entirely sure what was going through their heads right now. They all looked a little too shocked to do anything at the moment. Maybe they had absolutely _no_ idea who he was? They were just surprised by the intensity of his scar? Of course, that would be a miracle; everyone breathing in the Fire Nation knew who the Banished Prince Zuko was. By now, it would have reached every corner of the world that Zuko had betrayed his country, his father, and by extension, every Fire Nation citizen from here to the South Pole.

"Gentlemen..." Maya's eyes took on a wicked gleam. "We are in the presence of royalty!"

Wen and Lee chuckled. Zuko's eyes eased shut and the slightest wince was enough to egg on the act.

Maya stood and backed up a few steps. "My Prince Zuko, what brings you to our humble compound?" The mocking tone in her voice was lava thick. She extended her arms and bowed so deeply her forehead almost touched the floor. "Forgive us for our rough treatment," she begged, rising. "Had we known it was you..."

The floor met his face for the fourth time in the past fifteen minutes, followed quickly by a direct kick to his gut, a blow that made Sokka flinch. He curled his legs into himself but refused make a sound.

Maya grinned. "...we would have delivered nothing but the deserved treatment."

"Quite the catch, Maya," Lee congratulated. "What are the odds?"

"How much was that reward again?" Wen chimed in.

Zuko's face paled considerably. Of course there was a reward! He was the most wanted man in all the world now (next to the Avatar, naturally), and there was absolutely no way of squeezing some sort of pity out of a couple of guards that get paid little to nothing.

"I don't know," answered Maya. "But it's definitely enough to get me out of here, whether they'd let me go under different circumstances or not."

She suddenly remembered the presence of the one who had made the arrest in the first place. Sokka stood off to the side, forgotten, unimportant to the ruffians until he posed as an interference. His eyes locked onto Zuko's curled form, a worried frown thankfully hidden under his helmet visor. His pain, though fading, looked suppressed, and even so, it looked intense. Wen had not held back in his blows.

He didn't realize all three of the guards were looking at him.

"_You!_"

The sharp word visibly jolted Sokka from his thoughts. Wen and Lee's wild guffaws at his fluster flushed his cheeks a deep shade of red. Hopefully they wouldn't notice (It was the heat, surely!).

Maya remained silent. Her crimson eyes looked the scrawny, young, timid soldier up and down meticulously, drinking in every inch of his demeanor as she did with all new recruits that arrived at her prison. He couldn't have been more than 16 years old!

But Maya knew more than anybody: age does not keep the darkness from touching you, here at the Boiling Rock. Neither does identity. In fact, most cases proved that these factors merely _promote_ it.

Sokka's eyes stuck to the floor until Maya was suddenly standing almost nose-to-nose with him. She had to bend down a bit, but her intimidating bearing remained untouched.

"What's your name soldier?" she questioned.

How had he not thought of a name? _Stupid! Stupid!_

"Uh—" _Come on! Fire Nation names! _"Wang, ma'am." _Hm, that's sounds familiar._

Her gaze was steady. "Mhm. Well, Wang, you don't mind, _do_ you?"

_Don't mind what? You knocking my friend almost senseless? Butting in on my moment with Suki? Of course not! Why in the Spirit World would I mind any of that? In fact, I encourage it, you—!_ "I'm sorry, what?"

"You don't mind my taking the reward, right?" A sinister smile crept on her lips. "I mean, I was the one who fought him in the first place. I really did most of the work in his capture."

Sokka was reminded briefly of his days back in his South Pole village. He and Katara would go looking for icicles, from time to time, to use as swords when they were very young. Well, that's what _Sokka_ would want them for. His sister sought the crystal treasures for looking purposes only. He remembered one particular day where they had both seen the largest, smoothest, most dazzling icicle either Pole had ever produced in history, hanging in the mouth of a cave, "first". The battle for such a prize was legendary, witnessed by an abundance of Penguins and one polar bear-dog lounging in the distance. In the end...it shattered.

"Besides, you just got here right?" Sokka nodded stiffly. "Yeah, see? I wouldn't want to spoil your time here by letting you go so quickly, you know? What fun would that be?"

Oh, she was actually waiting for an answer. "Um, none ma'am."

"So I'm actually doing you a favor."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. That's very kind of you." Why was he acting so scared? It's not like he even had the reward in mind in the first place. Heck, he didn't care about that at all! He brought his eyes up and saw tiny sparks lighting in Maya's pupils.

Right. That's why.

"You're welcome," she growled. She stayed for a split second more, then returned sharply back to her friends (if they could be called that).

"Wait, Maya," Wen suddenly asked. "Why did you bring him to us?"

The same thought hit Lee. "Yeah, that's a good question. Why bother?"

Sokka hadn't even thought about that. The heat of the moment back in the cells had clouded his mind from any sort of rational action aside from keeping his identity a secret. He had not bothered to ask himself the question that was now the current topic of conversation. The cells were right there! Why didn't Maya just open an empty one and throw Zuko in? What was the point of coming all the way to this corridor just to take Zuko's helmet off?

Maya's derogatory delivery returned. "_Because_, Wen..." That sickening smile revealed itself once more, and she crouched next to Zuko's recovering form. "..._traitors_ are fair game for the Dog Fights, right?"

Enlightenment blossomed on the guards' faces. "Ah! Yes, of course!"

"And you guys are running the Pot tonight, right?"

Lee produced a palm-sized pouch from his uniform. Slips of folded parchment scraps stuck out from the opening as well as some clean, intact pieces. "Got it right here."

"Excellent." Maya produced a charcoal pen and plucked a clean bit from the bag. Sokka rose to his toes, straining to see what she was scribbling, but it was over in a moment, and the paper returned, folded, to the "pot".

"They _are_ tonight?"

Wen nodded his confirmation.

"What's tonight?" Sokka tentatively approached the group, curious, disturbed. Whatever these "Dog Fights" were, Maya and the Gang were too excited for them to be something good.

All three helmets swiveled to him. "Ah," Maya said. "I suppose you wouldn't know. It's only fair you get warning, right?"

"Well, I don't know," Sokka warily mumbled. "Warning about what?"

"The Dog Fights occur whenever new recruits arrive at the Boiling Rock," Lee began. "It's a...way to welcome them to the family."

"On the left side: a plucked-from-the-helmet newbie, itching to make his mark," Wen continued.

"On the right..." Maya swooped down and took a fistful of Zuko's dark hair. Alarm flashed over his features as she pulled him to his knees. His seethe and groan were hardly hidden. "...a prisoner in need of some roughing up."

Sokka gulped. "Ah..." Zuko struggled gently against Maya's attached hand, but each twist or strain he gave only added to his pain. Her patience, miniscule, bordering nonexistent, wore out quickly. Sokka realized that this woman, who was pinned under Zuko when he first saw them fighting, was stronger than she looked as she pulled the prince mercilessly up to her eye level and yanked his head back.

The cry his mouth set free was muffled immediately. He gritted his teeth to Maya's hard face, jaw tight, fists behind his back clenched even tighter. Sokka saw the one set of nails digging relentlessly into the opposite wrist against the pain. Zuko probably didn't even know he was doing that, Sokka thought. Maya had pulled him up so high that his twitching booted toes just barely scraped the ground, giving him no chance to push up into his hair's shackle. His breath came as quick grunts. The defiance in his eyes gave Sokka just enough hope.

Zuko had not accepted his role as prisoner just yet. His pride refused to let him.

"You're going to be an interesting one, aren't you?" Maya hissed.

Zuko responded with a kick to his captor's knee, not just with toes, but the entirety of his foot. Something cracked, Maya screeched, and her flailing arms sent him soaring into the metal wall. His head was the first thing to hit; the thud was nauseating to Sokka's ears. He fell to the ground in a heap, crumpled, and still.

While Lee and Wen ran to Maya's aid, Sokka ran to Zuko's. The purple and black bruise that had already begun to form over his left eye was what bought Sokka's attention first. On the other hand, nothing was buying Zuko's. His eyelids drooped shut lazily and snapped back open with a start. Repeat. Sokka adjusted Zuko's position and cradled the damaged head in his lap. Any movement it made was slow and unsure. He did _not_ like that foggy glaze over those amber eyes. Not one bit.

He kept his voice quiet; "Zuko, you alright?" No answer. "Zuko, answer me. Focus on my voice!"

His golden irises shot up to Sokka's figure, _both_ of them. They were hazy and shaking, but he could easily make out his worried expression and moving mouth. _Words? Is he trying to form words? Why is he yelling? Speak up, for goodness sakes! Fo... that's not a word. Fo...k...cuss? Ah! Focus! I am focusing, you moron!_

And just like that, the world was still again. _What happened? Oh yeah! I gave her something she won't easily forget. Where am I? The Boiling Rock. Oh crap. _

"Zuko, say something, quick!" Maya was getting helped to her feet.

"Yeah..." His voice was raspy, distant. _Why did I say that? That doesn't make any sense!_

Better than nothing. He turned back to the company; Maya's left leg from the knee down was twisted at an odd angle, foot pointing inward. Wen and Lee acted as her crutches, wrapping an arm around their shoulders and helping her stand on her one good leg. Excruciating pain molested her features, topped off with unmistakable fury and rage. Her head snapped up to "Wang" and Zuko, fireworks exploding in her pupils.

"You'll regret that tonight, you treasonous filth!" she bellowed. "Ohh yes, the guards are going to be furious! Just you wait!"

Lee left her to Wen's care as they turned a corner down the hall, probably in the direction of the medical wing. He approached Zuko and Sokka and reached for the injured teen.

Sokka didn't care anymore. Screw it all. He shielded Zuko's form with his own body and arms and glared up at the guard. Lee drew back in surprise. "He needs medical treatment!" he protested, forgetting all about the operation, his alias, Suki. "I think he has a concussion! If you jostle him, you could seriously hurt him!"

Lee raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care? Why should _I _care?" he asked slowly.

Bang. It all came back. Sokka was _this close_ to blowing every chance of getting Suki, Zuko, and himself out of this place alive. At this point, if he said something stupid, anything else remotely out of Fire Nation character, he was dead. Zuko was already condemned to imprisonment and who-knows-what-else once he was taken back to his father.

_Don't screw up, _he scolded himself._ Think Fire Nation. Why would I want to preserve the man who betrayed my country?_

His mouth hung open foolishly while the cogs in his head turned. "Well...uh..." He looked back down at Zuko. The sharpness of his glare was enough to inform Sokka he was aware of the circumstances and thinking clearly. _Don't screw up._

"Well...I mean...he'd be worthless for the Dog Fights tonight if he was too badly injured," he hastily reasoned. Lee's face softened. "There's no point if the prisoner is already beat up, is there? What's the fun in that?" Oh gosh, he sounded like a sadist. His stomach dropped at his saying something like that.

Lee nodded, holding his chin. He laughed short and loud. "I guess you're right. I like you, Wang!" He clapped a strong hand onto Sokka's shoulder, making his jolt forward. "You'll fit in just nicely here, I believe."

Sokka forced a chuckle. "Great. Looking forward to it."

"Here, get him up. You seem to know more about this concussion stuff. I'll take you to the cells reserved for..._his_ type."

"Oh...Um, alright. Give him some space..." Lee rolled his eyes but stepped back a few paces.

Sokka went back to Zuko. He looked horrid. On his side, his head had no choice but to hang towards the floor, bobbing up and down as he fought the urge to rest with the necessity to stay awake. Who knows what other damage had been done on his abdomen. No doubt his arms were sore from being bound and tossed around so much.

Sokka gently rolled him on his back. "You have to sit up. Now. Here, I'll help you." Zuko moaned and frowned. The light was starting to affect him. Sokka had experienced something like this before; Katara had gotten really into a snowball fight when they were kids. She hadn't learned to control her waterbending just yet, and she ended up throwing a sphere of ice instead of fluffy snow straight at Sokka's forehead. Man, that really sucked.

"Come on, slowly." Zuko finally rattled his head and forced his eyes to stay open. "That's good," Sokka soothed. "Look at me, only me."

Amber met blue. _Please, please, get _up.

Sokka could tell that Zuko was seriously trying to concentrate on his voice, his face. The thick glaze was wearing away, thankfully, and his pupils darkened. He gave a quick glance to Lee, who waited impatiently off to the side, then gave a sudden attempt to rise up from the floor.

Sokka breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, now slow it down a bit." He ignored Zuko's mumbled "shut up" and held his head and back while he slowly moved into a sitting position. "Great. Can you stand?" Zuko nodded, but he looked like he was sleeping. Sokka knew he was just fighting against the onslaught of pain that had come from moving.

After a couple more minutes, Zuko was finally on his feet, wobbling, but standing nonetheless. "Can we take him to the medical ward? Just to have him checked out?" Sokka inquired.

Lee simply made a _pft_ sound and shook his head. Sokka's gaze hardened.

"Is there any way we can take the bindings off? He could walk more steadily that way."

"Absolutely not," Lee firmly replied. "If he falls, he falls. That's his fault."

Sokka sneered, but at Lee's face he relaxed his features. _Are these people completely void of remorse?_ "Fine. I'll help him." He turned and weaved his arm under both of Zuko's, wrapping it around his back bracingly. With the other he held the shoulder closest to him (Zuko was heavier than he expected). Without another word, he made their way down the hall, back towards the cells.

Lee's footsteps didn't sound until Sokka was halfway down the hall with Zuko. "Hey, you don't have a soft-spot for this blemish, do you?"

The question was one he knew Lee was asking the entire time he defended Zuko. He didn't blame him, either. His actions were completely...not Fire Nation-like. He knew he had stuck his toe a little too far in the water that time, but what was he supposed to do? Let Lee knock him around some more?

"Absolutely not! What makes you think that?"

"Take a right. Up those stairs for two flights. Seriously? Do you know what this guy has done?"

_More than you do, you monster._ "Yeah, I know. I also know what it's like to have a concussion. It really sucks," Sokka snapped. "And I also know that any little jostle can—"

Lee's laughter was eruptive. They reached the stairs, but Sokka halted for a moment, letting Zuko rest a minute. He faced Lee. "What's so funny?"

"Just you wait, Wang," Lee assured. "When it comes time for _your_ Dog Fight, you'll forget all about that stuff."

Wait, what? "_My _Dog Fight?" Realization spread across his face. "Oh! Oh, no no no no no. I don't want a Dog Fight. I'm perfectly fine where I'm at! Besides, I seem to have made a good mark with you already! You said so yourself!" He playfully punched Lee on the shoulder.

"Ha! Nice try!" Lee wrapped his arm around Sokka and leaned in close. "I guess we didn't tell you, did we?"

_Gulp._ "Tell me what?"

"It's mandatory, Wang. If a fellow guard throws your name in the Pot, it stays in there until it's drawn."

Sokka tried to steady his breathing, but it was obvious that this news caught him by surprise. "But, my name isn't in the Pot, is it?"

"Is now," Lee said, shrugging, pulling the Pot from his tunic. "Maya just put it in. Nothing personal; she does that for all newcomers she meets. The Dog Fights are...our favorite form of entertainment here at the Boiling Rock, especially since it's the only thing we can _think of_ as entertainment."

What else was there to do except nod?

"If you're lucky, you may even have the chance to teach this scum a lesson!" Lee stretched his leg to kick Zuko's resting body, but Sokka reached up with his own and slammed it down, knocking the offender off balance. Lee gave him a what-the-heck-are-you-doing look, anger burning his cheeks.

Sokka smiled nervously, shrugging, standing protectively in front of Zuko. "As I was saying, the slightest jostle can seriously mess him up. It wouldn't be fun to knock around a prisoner who can't even stand properly, would it?"

The rest of the trip was in silence. It wasn't as hard to get Zuko up the stairs as Sokka had expected, but he wished it had taken a little longer once they reached the top.

Lee had directed him to a hallway that branched off of the main cells. The holding cells were in a wheel-and-spokes pattern, with the main room fingering out into hallways on each level. There was an area where the cells got new residents each time a new shipment of guards came in, and Sokka soon found out why.

One hallway had about a dozen doors with burnt marks on their metallic surfaces. As Sokka got closer, he could easily make out the rough outline of a dog's head on each one. They were fearsome, cartoonish sketches, with dark eyes and jagged teeth. They were cattle brands, and not just for the doors.

They passed a couple of cells, Sokka assuming them to be occupied, before they came to a stop. Lee brought forth practically empty keyring and unlocked a cell that now belonged to Zuko. "Put him in and leave him. He's got plenty of time to rest before tonight." He roughly removed Zuko's bindings.

"That may not be enough time..." Sokka growled, stumbling Zuko into the dark cell.

Lee laughed. "You'll come 'round, I know you will. They all do after they hear the charges."

Sokka didn't even bother trying to decipher what Lee had promised as he slid the door shut behind them. He led Zuko to the cot in the back and eased him to a lying position. "How ya doing?" he whispered, knowing Lee had most likely stayed outside the door.

Zuko, surprisingly, shot his eyes wide open and said clearly, "I'm _fine_. I've been fine. It's not as bad as it seems, I promise."

Sokka furrowed his brow, slightly angered. "Have you been faking it this whole time?"

"Yeah...well, not the whole time. That knock to the head kind of did one on me." Zuko averted his eyes. It wasn't a regular thing for him to hint at his being human. Of course, this wasn't a regular circumstance, either.

"Look, I'm sorry about what happened," Sokka began after a short silence. "That looked really painful. I'm sure there were other ways I could have gone about that fight and—"

"Sokka, shut up." He was very taken aback by Zuko's sudden grumble. "You did what you had to and I understand that. No, there _was_ no other way to go about it. What's important now is that you keep your cover. As for the roughing up, I've had worse." He pointed nonchalantly to his scar, though Sokka already knew what he was referring. He also got a look at the bright red marks on his wrists from the cuffs; they had rubbed them raw.

He gave a half-smile. "I'll find a way to fix this. I promise. There is _no way_ you're going to the Dog Fights, and neither am I if I can help it."

"I'd appreciate that," Zuko said, grinning.

"In the meantime, get some rest, keep movement to a minimum, sleep if you can, and for once, don't worry about an escape." He rose. "I'll figure it out. I'll get to Suki somehow and we can formulate a plan."

"Sounds good, now get outta here. You're wasting time, standing here and worrying about me."

_Well someone's got to..._

* * *

**A/N: Please review! :) It really motivates and helps me along. Tell me what you think, and thanks for reading!**

**Oh, and if you understand where Sokka's name came from, leave a comment and I'll mention you in the next chapter for being awesome :3**


	3. The Dog Fights

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for helping me break over 300 views for this story! I've never had that big of a number before and it means so much to me. Also, your reviews help me out more than you know. Keep them coming!**

**Shoutout to**** ChicagoChaingang and a**** guest named jalfal for knowing where "Wang" came from.**

**I will not apologize for my long absence, because I was at Church Camp for a week and it changed my life for the better and other stuff has come up to prolong my return. However, you guys are still gonna get an extra long chapter because 1) I've been idle for a while and 2) it was going to be this long anyway :) Enjoy!**

* * *

Sokka had retreated to the catwalks above the prison yard to think. There were at least two instances of guard-prisoner oppression, both of which were ridiculous and cruel.

_I'm not one of them,_ he kept reminding himself. _I am not a Fire Nation soldier, guard, or citizen._ _I have absolutely nothing to feel ashamed of. I'm as guilty as Suki, or Aang, or Zu...oh._

But he _was_ one of them now. He adorned this nation's uniform. He had already arrested an ally—a friend—and let him be beaten, not to mention assisted in the containment of Chit Sang. Seriously, it looked unbearably cold in the Cooler; he could only imagine how torturous it would be for a firebender. Even worse, he locked Zuko in a cell! What kind of monster was he becoming!

_No. Don't think like that. Focus on the plan. Focus on getting out of here._

After a leisurely stroll around the prison's exterior (during which he uncovered some very interesting information about the Boiling Lake), he found himself returned to the catwalks. He still had plenty of time to think and take a closer look at the Coolers, but for the moment, he would survey the prison yard. It was probably a wise idea to keep in mind the prisoners' restricted areas, just in case he had trouble smuggling Suki and Zuko into guard territory.

Sokka leaned against the railing to search the empty yard below, forging a mental picture of where every door, column, support, and crevice was located. Even the seemingly random benches could serve a purpose other than providing a place to rest.

No, they were useless. After seeing the prison's exterior, a flawless plot had already begun to materialize behind Sokka's eager eyes. He, Zuko, and Suki were getting out of there, no questions asked.

A hand at his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. Startled, Sokka whipped around to see an unfamiliar guard standing with a scrap of parchment crumpled between his fingers.

"Are you Wang?"

"What?" Sokka looked around for another person. Wang? What kind of a name was...oh, wait. "Um, yeah. I guess I am." He smiled for extra measure.

The guard lifted an eyebrow. He was just smiling. Lighten up, geez. "Well, I pulled your name, so I'm fetching you. Come on."

He took Sokka by the arm and pulled him to the end of the catwalk, to the door back to the cells. "What?" He yanked himself out of the guard's grasp and stepped back. "What do you mean 'fetch me'?" The worst came to mind. Was he found out? Did they make Zuko tell? "Did I do something wrong?"

The guard held the parchment scrap up to Sokka's face. "This is your name, right? Wang?"

"Yes..." His eyes grew wide. He had seen that paper before...

Without warning, he spun around to face the horizon, and his gut burst. There was no sun; it had set a long time ago. The creamy orange of sundown had been overrun by the nighttime's blue ink, speckled with bone dust. The moon, Yue, in her full, pale glory hung shallow in the sky. For once, Sokka was not pleased to see her.

"I—I don't understand," he stuttered to himself. "It's only been a few hours! That can't be! There's a mistake!"

"Um...there's no mistake. Sunset was an hour ago," the guard said, confusion thick in his voice. "Come on. The Dog Fights are about to start." He took Sokka's arm and led him to the door. "They keep saying tonight is going to be the best one yet, that we have a 'special guest' for this one. You know anything about that?"

How had time gone that quickly? Did some Time spirit fast-forward just to mess with him? His legs and mouth moved by themselves as he answered blankly, "No, nothing at all."

_Snap out of it, stupid! You've got to get Zuko and yourself out of here! Just long enough to miss the Dog Fights._

Before Sokka had a chance to blink, he had been escorted to the main holding area. It was a rectangular room with at least a dozen floors, all lined with cells. A catwalk cut it right down the middle on the third and eighth floors. It was the trunk to all the branches, the wheel to all the spokes, and now, it served as a gladiator's arena.

From the ground level to the top tier, sitting and standing on railings, leaning up against supporting pillars, dangling legs over the sides of the catwalks, the room was packed to the brim with Boiling Rock guards and faculty. An infinite number of helmets, bracers, and corrupt faces glimmered in the light of numerous torches that lined the walls. Even the windows of prison cells glistened with curious eyes, worried about the activity down below.

The Dog Fights.

* * *

If Sokka thought the room was hot when empty, he was back in the desert as he entered.

Or, perhaps his desire to pass out was brought on by the fact: he had never been surrounded by so many Fire Nation authorities in his entire life. A pounding in his head he didn't know was present intensified and the floor beneath his feet softened. Tremors assaulted his hands. This was the one time he was thankful for this blasted armor.

His escort pushed their ways through the crowd to the center of the room, where an area, about 20 by 30 feet, had been outlined. Scorch marks blatantly proclaimed where the crowd was prohibited to go, making spectator elbowroom practically nonexistent.

With a shove, Sokka emerged from the sea of charcoal and scarlet. He stumbled, flailing his arms, clutching his helmet. This mask was the only thing keeping him alive right now. His shoulder accidentally rammed into someone next to him, and he was immediate to apologize.

"Oh, sorry about that. I didn't mean—"

A hand helped him steady. "No problem, man! Don't worry about it. We're all a little nervous." The boy Sokka had assaulted was no more than his own age, sixteen at least. He was slightly taller with paler skin, golden eyes, and toned (but not obnoxious) biceps. Dark hair stuck sloppily out from beneath his visor, reminding Sokka way too much of Zuko.

Sokka frowned. "We?" Everyone was pumped for this thing except for him! This guy had no idea what he was talking about!

"Yeah," answered the Fire Nation boy. "You're a new recruit right? You came on the boat with us?"

That's when Sokka realized where he stood. He was at the end of a long line of fresh guards, boys and girls, all about his age, bickering amongst themselves excitedly. "Who do you think I'll get?" "I can't wait!" "Been looking forward to this all day!" "You think we're allowed to use fire bending?"

_What kind of heartless monsters have I been grouped with?_

This was the literal version of the Pot. All the names in that sack belonged to a young soldier here, _literally_ itching to make his or her mark at the Boiling Rock. It was a coming-of-age ceremony, like Water Tribe ice-dodging, but for the guards.

"Uh...yeah. Yep, that's me!" Sokka straightened and puffed out his chest, hands on hips. "I'm _so_ ready for this. _So _ready to...to..." _Toss a prisoner around for a bit. Exciting stuff._

"Yeah, me too," the boy agreed, smiling. "If we do this, we're already on the other guards' good sides. We're less likely to get assigned look-after-the-murderer jobs, you know what I mean?"

"Uh, yeah. Totally." It was a _survival tactic_. The Dog Fights were a form of fun for the senior guard, who had already danced the dance, and simply a guarantee of life for the younger. The most dangerous criminals in the Fire Nation were in this prison. They weren't heartless, brainwashed brats; they were horrified teenagers who just wanted to ensure themselves another day.

"I'm Zeng, by the way," he said, shaking Sokka's hand.

"Wang."

"Good to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Good luck," Zeng added, clapping Sokka on the shoulder.

"You too." He gulped. Surely they wouldn't put them up against any _really _dangerous prisoners, would they? He had seen some of the inmates in the prison yard, and Chit Sang was at the bottom of the "tough" scale in comparison to some of the characters here.

At the opposite end of the line, another new recruit was pushed into her spot from the crowd. Sokka was sure he could hear her armor rattling over all the excitement in the room. Her breathing was quick and shaky, her knees wobbling beneath her.

As terrible as it was, Sokka took comfort in knowing that someone was more frightened than he.

A male guard made his way to the center of the empty arena with a cone in his hand. The audience, seeing his move, gradually quieted down until the air was still. The Pot members stood at attention and everyone's eyes focused on the man in the middle. Sokka's thick and heavy breath was like thunder in the silence, but it allowed a moment for him to clear his head and notice an important absence.

Where was Zuko? Maybe he wouldn't be in the Fights after all? Perhaps his head injury got too bad and they had to pull him out. Yeah, that's probably what happened.

The man raised the cone to his lips, circling slowly, and bellowed:

"**Ladies**..." A portion of the crowed cheered for a few seconds while the one word's echo faded away.

"**Gentlemen**..." It was the men's turn to uplift their race.

"**Prisoners**..." The room reacted as if he had spoken something obscene in a holy place. Boos and hisses erupted right alongside wild banging and stomping. The guards nearest to cell doors pounded with clenched fists against the iron barriers. Any tiny gems peeking through the cracks disappeared into the darkness of their cages, no doubt cowering in the farthest corner, away from the savages at their doorsteps.

"**Welcome**...**to the Dog Fights**!" The man raised his arm dramatically and made a wide circle in the arena. The volcano beneath the compound found this greeting a worthy offering, pouring all of its energy, fury, and strength into the room's inhabitants. A wave of deafening roars rose and fell from all corners of the stadium. Any firebenders released controlled sparks and blasts of flame into the air, marring the floor above them. Members stationed on the catwalks sent sparks, cheap fireworks, falling to the arena below. Next to Sokka, Zeng took a deep, shaky breath, trying to control his charged smile.

"**We'd like to review a couple of rules: first, during the Fights, firebending is **_**prohibited**_**! This goes for both the spectators and the fighters from each side. We don't want another incident like last month.**" A couple of groans. Sokka sighed in relief; whoever he got paired with couldn't firebend, so he was evenly matched for the most part. However, was a prisoner really going to pay any attention to the rules? Also, what happened last month?

"**Second, the only interference allowed from those at the border of the arena is **_**none**_**! This is their fight, not yours**.**" **Another wave of cheers. Sokka looked around nervously, knowing that the hollering was meant for him and the other new recruits. Not knowing how to react, he looked to Zeng for ideas.

The Fire Nation boy's eyes were as bright as the surrounding torches. Eagerness was the obvious emotion behind his eyes, and Sokka found it hard to duplicate the same enthusiasm.

"**Without another word, ladies and gents,**" the announcer continued. "**We shall commence with the drawing!**"

Another guard walked out to the middle of the empty space where the announcer stood. A brown pouch was clutched firmly in his palm.

_The Pot. Somewhere in that bag is my...well, Wang's name. Oh, how on earth do I get myself into these things?_

Desperate times make desperate men do crazy things. Right now, Sokka was the epitome of desperate, walking through Death's shadowed valley with nothing but wax and no wick to burn. Whatever his fear was at the moment (the fear of being beaten to a pulp or the fear of doing the same to a human being, he didn't know), it was eating him alive. The thought of being in such a position was terrible enough, and he was glad to erase it from his mind earlier by deviating a plan. But now, the situation was a reality—

He spun around and faced an endless sea of helmets. His mouth worked against him: "Look, there's been a mistake. I didn't even _want_ my name in that thing! She meant to put someone _else's_ name in, but she heard them wrong and wrote mine instead. So, you see, I'm not supposed to be here! In fact, I've got an important thing that the, uh, Warden himself wants me to do. Yeah! I've gotta be going now. No sense in me staying to fight if I'm not supposed to be here in the first place, right? So, if you'd just let me through, I'll be going, excuse me..."

But Zeng yanked Sokka around. "What are you doing?" he whispered roughly.

"Look," Sokka reasoned. "There's a mistake. I'm not supposed to be here!" He held his hands out innocently, as if that would further his cause.

"It's too late now," said Zeng. "There's no going back. Didn't they tell you it was mandatory?"

"Yeah, but that's stupid! Why would they _force_ you to get accepted by their little group?"

"Look, Wang. If you chicken out of this, fine. That's your decision. But don't say I didn't warn you." Zeng's voice took a dark turn, forcing Sokka to listen. "This prison is not for the weak or fainthearted. Squeezing out of something as big as the Dog Fights will only come back to bite you in tender, fatal places. The guards here will _weed_—_you_—_out_ at the first chance they get if you can't stand up to something as trivial as a prisoner."

_Gulp_. Wow, this was a new perspective. Sokka glanced back behind him. The door was _right there_; he could see the top over the wave of helmets. It'd be so easy just to push his way through and run out...hide for the night...come out in the morning...

Then again, if what Zeng said was true, there wouldn't be much of a morning anyway...

He took a deep breath and faced back. _No turning back now, I suppose._

* * *

"**Bring out the prisoners!**" At the command, a second onslaught of booing commenced. Across the arena, the crowd shuffled and stood aside, making a twisted aisle for a marching company. As they turned the corner, the Pot saw their competition for the first time.

A line of prisoners, accompanied by at least half a dozen guards, marched single-file through the mocking crowd. "Filth!" "Scum!" "Serves you right!" A couple of the spectators spit on the passing group, but none reached out to touch them—that was saved for the members of the Pot. Brown sacks had been pushed over their heads and tied loosely at the neck, but Sokka could tell by the body-types that there were no women amongst them.

_Thank goodness they've held onto _that_ moral, at least,_ he the Water Tribe, harming a woman was punishable by death.

Chains linked them all, binding their wrists and ankles. There were also clasps on the chains between prisoners to break them off when came time, Sokka reasoned. Their steps were short and unsure; the chains rattled with every movement.

But there was another reason the bindings shook so. Sokka squinted at one of the prisoner's hands, to make sure he had seen correctly, and, indeed, the rough skin was tainted blue. The same went for many of the other opponents. It dawned on him that, despite the scorching air in the room, an abundance of them were shivering violently.

The guards lined them up parallel to the Pot and forced them all on their knees. Some were looking about frantically, their attempts to see through the thick coverings futile. Others simply sat and allowed tremors to overtake their bodies. The usual red Boiling Rock pants and shirt were the only things offering comfort as the ten-and-some prisoners awaited their fate.

"**Our first convict is a man from the western Earth Kingdom.**" _Booooo._ "**His crime? Assault! On a Fire Nation soldier!**" _Hisssss. _"**Not to mention resisting the authorities! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Bipin...!**"

The guard closest to the prisoner on the far right ripped off his cover. Bipin's bright green eyes shot around wildly, taking in the room around him. He looked across the arena at a line of Fire Nation soldiers with hate burning in their expressions and his face paled. His chains were detached from the sequence and removed, tossed to the side. "Please!" he cried above the roars. "I'm innocent!"

"That's what they all say!" "Pathetic!" "Accept your crime against Lord Ozai!"

The guard took hold of Bipin's forearms to restrain him and pulled him to the side. The audience forgot about him soon enough while Announcer got to the exciting part.

"**Recently, Bipin has been causing a bit of trouble in the yard, haven't you?**" _Booooo. _

"No!" Bipin protested, struggling to break free. "I haven't, I swear!" Tears gleamed on his cheeks. "It was an accident!"

"**Silence! Now, who will be the one to teach this criminal a lesson? Hm? Who will prove themselves worthy of being called Guard?**" The crowd called down a plethora of names: Zeng; Uzan; Koz. Announcer beckoned Lee over and plunged his hand into the Pot, silencing the stadium in a heartbeat. Nothing could be heard but the rustling of parchment for an immortalized second.

Sokka held his breath.

A name emerged from the Pot; the room inhaled. Announcer unfolded the parchment and squinted as he read the dark name carefully. Raising the paper into the air, he proclaimed: "**Congratulations..Atsuko!**"

A girl to Sokka's right took a step forward into the arena, raising her arms and turning in a slow circle to survey her audience, that which was cheering wildly and chanting, "At-su-ko! At-su-ko! At-su-ko!"

Bipin was thrown into the arena as Announcer and Lee exited. He stumbled and rolled into the middle of the empty area, skidding to a stop and rising to his feet almost immediately. Atsuko approached, cracking her knuckles and flexing her fingers. Her voice reminded Sokka of Toph. "Earth Kingdom waste," she called. "Don't think I won't enjoy this."

"Please," Bipin pleaded, backing away. He shook his head vigorously. "I won't fight a child."

"You think I can't handle myself?" Atsuko exclaimed, smirking. "Just you wait. My parents didn't let their little daughter leave home without some proper training first."

Sokka clenched his fists. This was horrible! He looked around at the spectators; they were far too excited for this. It was savage! Inhuman! Revolting!

Atsuko wasted no time lunging at the larger man. She closed the space between them faster than Sokka would've thought possible and struck at her opponent. Bipin, unwilling to physically defend himself against a girl half his age, ducked to the side, and let the fist pass over him. Anticipating a dodge, Atsuko extended her foot, catching Bipin's ankles as he moved away and sent him to the metal floor. The Earth Kingdom man proved himself trained as well, for he dove and tucked his head in, catching his shoulder blades in a roll. It was a move Sokka's father had taught him when he was very young.

Bipin was back on his feet, hands out in a defensive fighting position. He gritted his teeth and swore, "I will not fight you, Atsuko."

The girl only took that as an invitation. "Then this will be easy." Atsuko ripped off her helmet, letting loose a thick brown braid that trailed down her back. It flew as she rushed forward and liberated a second assault on her opponent. Bipin was lighter on his feet than Atsuko, and she was all offense. The Fight was mostly Atsuko hitting and missing while Bipin outwitted her each time, never laying a finger on his attacker.

"Quit moving!" she screamed with clenched fists.

Sokka had to admit, even though he was secretly cheering Bipin on, that she was extremely skilled; she initiated clean punches, kicks, and strikes of all kinds with flawless form and determination. But it was obvious that what her parents had had her learn was mainly how to hurt, not to fight.

As a result, the audience quickly got tired of the consistent lack of contact. The battle went on for a couple of minutes before someone thought breaking a rule would speed things up. In the middle of everything, a column of red-hot fire descended from the catwalk above the duo, landing directly between Bipin and Atsuko. The audience went wild, exhilarated. Finally! Something exciting was happening!

The interruption was brief, but enough for Atsuko to gain the upper hand in her Fight. Bipin, caught off guard by the interference, staggered backwards towards the Pot and shielded his eyes from the intense heat. The inferno was gone as soon as it appeared, for Atsuko charged the wall and swept it aside with a graceful wave of her fingers. The last thing Bipin saw before pain and darkness hit him was Atsuko's boot coming straight for his face.

The crowd released billows of _ooh_s and _ohh_s, followed by deafening cheers for Atsuko's strike. Bipin slid to a stop at the feet of those standing in the Pot, just to the right of Sokka. Blood gushed from his nose, which was bent at an odd angle, and the rest of his face was a wounded shade of red and purple. He was dazed, stirring unsteadily, trying to sit up and face the girl who was quickly approaching from behind.

He held a hand to his face and brought it away, cringing at the blood and pain. There were only a few second left until Atsuko was on top of him.

_Get up! Get up! Fight!_ Sokka wanted to scream. His muscles tightened, begging for him to interfere, pleading for him to protect this man. It was a warrior's sworn oath: protect the innocent from harm. It was in Sokka's blood to have this urge, to feel this compulsion.

But it was also a warrior's duty to be wise, and charging into a fight in a room thick with Fire Nation soldiers was suicide.

Atsuko had arrived. She took a fistful of Bipin's brown hair and flung him back into the center of the ring. He frantically crawled away, but Atsuko did not hold back. She caught up to him and stomped mightily onto his right ankle. A sickening _crack_ and screech erupted simultaneously, and Bipin collapsed on the ground in pain.

Satisfied that her enemy was immobilized, Atsuko moved to Bipin's head. "How _dare_ you make a fool of me!" she cried, kicking Bipin's already marred jaw, making him cry out. She turned to address the crowd. "Even in _prison_ he resists authority!" Wicked laughter painted the air.

Bipin endured progressively worse kicks to the abdomen and chest. Sokka flinched at each blow, and turned his head as Bipin released a chilling cry to Atsuko's heel in his broken ankle. It was a noise that sent the most violent tremors down his spine. Even the audience seemed to calm a little for that scene, but was in an uproar once Bipin retreated to a fetal position. It was a sure sign of defeat. With one last stomp in the side, Atsuko left the pitiful man to his wallowing and faced the room, raising her hands in victory, accepting their cheers and whoops of congratulation.

As a pair brought Bipin to his feet, another crowd of guards rushed to the middle to congratulate Atsuko with slaps on the back and 'nice ones'. She seemed to disappear within the flurry of gold and black, sucked into the camouflage and stripped of any individuality she had a moment ago, and the group invited her back to the audience. With that display aside, Announcer returned to the arena.

"**Next in line is...**" And so the cycle repeated. Announcer would introduce the next person to be publicly humiliated and destroyed, then drew a name from the Pot. Each time, Sokka hoped and prayed his name would somehow disappear from that sack and, by some miracle, he, too, would find himself in a place far away from where he was now. He held his breath each time Announcer's hand dove into the pouch, and feared that if his name were drawn, he would forget to start breathing again and die right where he stood.

Of course, his name was not pulled, and he remembered to exhale, but, in a way, that only made the situation worse. Not being drawn meant that he still had the potential to be selected the next time. That bag was only getting emptier! Sooner or later, Announcer would call his name. Sooner or later, Sokka would have to beat a man close to death if he ever wanted to get himself, Zuko and Suki out of this forsaken pit.

And as he thought of this dreaded fact, Sokka realized that it wasn't just _his_ name that had been forgotten. He had not heard anything about the presence of one treasonous Prince Zuko. Not a peep! Sokka had never been that much of an optimist, and he found it foolish to hope for miracles, but there was, he figured, the slightest possibility that he had, in fact, been touched by one of the blessed things. Zuko's name had not been mentioned since their run-in with Maya. Surely, if he was here, he'd be the talk of the room!

The Dog Fights went on as normal (if this barbarity could be referred to as "normal"). All of the prisoners that were brought forth were of either Earth Kingdom or Fire Nation origin, which made sense since no Water Tribe members were here and the Air Nomads had been exterminated. Any known firebenders were put into the arena with blue skin, having Sokka believe that the Coolers were recently used.

The crimes listed off included trivial things (theft, hunting in restricted zones, practicing earthbending illegally, and resisting the authorities) as well as more major transgressions (murder, assault, manslaughter, and one case of rape). For the latter actions, Sokka involuntarily abandoned any sort of pity for the criminals. He wouldn't remember until after the round that they _were _human beings and the Fights were totally barbaric. Still, though, he couldn't help but feel that they had it coming in the end.

They ran though at least eight names, cutting down the numbers on both sides considerably. Zeng's name was the third or fourth one drawn, and Sokka felt extremely alone when he had joined the crowd after the fight. He was glad that he had made friends with Zeng early on; he was one heck of a fighter; quick, strong, controlled, and not one Sokka would like to anger any time soon. Plus, he was sure he saw sparks flying from his hands when his opponent was lucky enough to catch a piece him.

At least, that's what he concurred from the little bits and bobs he saw of that Fight. For the most part, Sokka tried to keep his face away. The Pot cheered and hooted and hollered for their friends to 'get 'em' and 'teach 'em a lesson', but Sokka stood, arms crossed, trying to focusing on anything else but the brutality taking place right in front of him.

Here and there, a soldier would snap a bone or twist something, but it was always at the opponents expense. There were pits in his arm he didn't know about where he subconsciously tried to fight the agonized cries with his nails. Each time he caught himself digging into his own flesh, he'd scold himself: _Stop that. If you fight...whatever this is with pain you're going to get nowhere._

Still, the marks got deeper and deeper with each blow.

As they dragged the last prisoner away, leaving a dotted trail of blood and misery behind him, Announcer stepped back out into the arena. No one expected anything other than the expected, but he decided to switch it up a bit. "**Tonight,**" he said, his voice adopting a more formal tone. "**We are in the company of a very special guest.**"

Someone in the audience hollered, "The Warden isn't that great!" The room exploded with laughter, even the announcer, who jokingly pointed in the direction of the voice and continued, "**You're lucky he **_**isn't**_** the one here to hear you say that**!" Another round of laughs.

"**No, tonight's guest is one that, I believe...will hold you to the very end. He is, after all...**" He paused for dramatic effect. "**...royalty.**"

The crowd _ooh_ed and murmured amongst themselves for a moment. Sokka, previously studying the room's layout since he had nothing else to do during the Fights, snapped his head to attention. Announcer had that smile, that sinister smile that Maya wore hours ago; it was the smirk that every person in the room had before the Dog Fights commenced.

Sokka knew who the special guest was. He looked across the arena to the line of remaining prisoners and searched the shackles.

"**This is a man you all will know very well. One look at him, and you will agree that a name is irrelevant! His crimes blatantly identify him for the **_**filth**_** he really is!**" Sokka held back from leaping in and strangling this guy. Who was _he_ to call anyone 'filth'? Who were _they_ to decide what kind of people these criminals were?

"**His most recent crime: assault! On one of our own!**" From the arena-side crowd, a woman pushed through, escorted by a tall man. Her left leg was set between two straight, wooden boards. Maya, with the assistance of Wen at her right side and a crutch, hobbled to Announcer at the center. The crowd sent down murmurs and whispered sympathies to their maimed colleague. "**What have you to say of this **_**villain**_**?**"

He held the cone up to Maya's lips, who raised her free hand in a vengeful fist and screamed, "The wrath of the Spirits upon him!" as loud as her voice would let her. The room screeched their consent, banging on the metal walls and cell doors like wild hog monkeys.

Sokka gasped—that was an awful curse, not to be voiced lightly. He knew better than most in this room the power of the Spirits: he had witnessed Hei Bai's strength firsthand, not to mention been taken by the Spirit himself to its world; Aang's Avatar State was brought on by the power of all his past lives combined, who were all living in the Spirit World right now. They, themselves, were enough to challenge the strength of the Earth's natural cycles. Sokka could only imagine the wrath of every single Spirit in existence falling on one person...and it was not a comforting thought.

Maya, with her judgment having riled up the spectators, returned, satisfied, to the 'stands'. "**I think I can give you all a hint at who is under that bag with two words: treason and betrayal! There is no excuse for what this fugitive has done to his country,—**" _Yes, there is. _"**—to his family! And now, it is rumored that he has joined the **_**Avatar **_**in their quest to destroy our beloved nation!**" By now, the crowd had gotten an idea of who was next in line. The noise was deafening, and Sokka had to strain to hear Announcer scream, "**My friends, please welcome our special guest for this evening! Prince **_**Zuko**_**!**"

On cue, the bag was stripped away. Zuko didn't expect the multitude that surrounded him, and his eyes grew slightly wider. He hardly had time to take it all in before he was bombarded with hurtled insults and unspeakable curses. His shaggy black hair fell over his eyes and the affects of the Cooler had yet to wear off, making him look more like a frightened madman than a prince.

The bruise over his left eye had gone blue with hints of green and purple, much to Sokka's surprise, though he could only see a a portion of it beneath Zuko's hair. He looked defiantly up at the mob, eyes aflame. As insults and profanities reached his ears, he remained stoic, nonreactive, but Sokka knew he was flinching.

"Disgrace!" "I guess the royals don't have it all, do they?" "You should've stayed on the water, prince!" "I heard you cried like an infant when you got that beauty mark!"

At the last remark, something exploded in his features. Without warning, Zuko leapt to his feet and looked in the direction of the person who had called out. "Say that to my face, coward!" he screamed to the crowd.

"I would, but I would die of laughter!" The audience guffawed. But Zuko was far from amused. He gritted his teeth and made a move to charge forward, but a guard placed a quick hand to his shoulder. He let out a prolonged groan and squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back to fight the pain of a triggered pressure point, but he was soon driven back to his knees. The guard released him from his agony, leaving the prisoner to heavy breaths and humiliated looks.

"What a wimp!" One of the remaining recruits nudged Sokka's arm, laughing, like he was asking if Sokka got a bad joke. He simply chuckled and nodded, ripping his nails away from the deepening marks in his bicep.

"**Who will be the lucky soldier chosen to face our honored guest?**" Announcer called, interrupting the audience's fun. "**Hm? Who will have the honor of putting this traitor in his place?**"

Sokka gulped in a breath. _Please not me please not me please not me. Let it be _anyone_ but me!_ He didn't think he could do it. If that man called Wang's name, if he was told to pummel his friend in front of a room filled with people who came especially for that moment, he would most certainly die. If not that, then he would kill everyone in his path to escape the stadium. He'd rather face the wrath of the Spirits than hurt someone he cared for; the warrior in him made that so.

The room's chaotic feel dissipated in a matter of moments when Lee presented the Pot. Sokka took a look at Zuko—he was staring at the ground, feigning fear and humility quite convincingly. But Sokka could see the ferocity in his features, even from across the arena. It gave him hope—Zuko was not going to just let himself be destroyed. Perhaps, by some miracle, he could escape when they removed his shackles.

Announcer's hand delved into the sack. The stillness was thick, the calm before the storm. Even Lee, who had remained practically unfazed by tonight's events, gleamed with a fresh sadism. The selected paper was raised high before Announcer unfolded it before his eyes. Oh no, that paper looked familiar. It was his. Spirits, it was _Wang's_! Sokka's fears were a reality. His stomach roiled—_I'm going to be sick!_

"**Step forth, Akemi!**" The crowd went ballistic. Sokka's illness dissipated at the unfamiliar call, but a whole new uneasiness spawned. Who was this Akemi? Would she be merciful? Or was she more like Atsuko—proud, ruthless, and sadistic? Sokka turned and searched the Pot desperately for the chosen soldier, the one who would eagerly pounce out of line and charge towards the restrained prince.

At the far end of the line, the remaining contestants pushed a child into the arena. Her Boiling Rock armor was at least two-sizes-too-big for her tiny frame, roughly tailored with scarlet sashes. The force at which she was flung into the arena sent her helmet clattering to the floor behind her, revealing a thick curtain of dark tresses. The way her bangs were held back resembled Katara's trademark "hair loopies". Fearful auburn eyes looked anywhere but at the man she was assigned to attack. She had to be Sokka's age, or younger. What was she doing in a place like this?

Zuko's shackles were removed. His guard roughly pushed him towards the terrified girl across the arena, but he had more training than Bipin, and was able to keep himself from plummeting towards the stone floor. The roar in the room had escalated to such an extreme that Sokka could not even differentiate individual voices from the black rumble of the arena.

Zuko straightened himself before his opponent. Even with his gruesomely marked face and blue skin, he was a blatantly unfair match for the child. He was standing quite a ways away from Akemi, but Sokka could see that he was nearly two feet taller than she. His muscular build put her petite structure to shame. She shook violently, fear overwhelming her, petrifying her where she stood.

Sokka couldn't hear what Zuko was saying above the buzz of the room, but he could tell that it was a plea— "You don't have to do this, Akemi." Zuko had nothing to be afraid of; Akemi was a lamb, lost, fearful, timid. She obviously didn't want to be here. Sokka couldn't imagine what had to have happened to get the girl in such a place as this. Although Zuko could easily take the girl, he had more honor than that.

Suddenly, Akemi lurched forward, snaking, catching herself before she smacked against the floor. With one hand she kept herself from collapsing; with the other, she held her gut. She gagged, retched, and before Sokka could avert his eyes, lost whatever contents her tiny stomach could hold. The audience booed and hissed, disgusted and disappointed in their sister. A woman, who, by the look of her garb, most likely worked in the infirmary, hurried out into the arena and escorted the girl into the crowd.

"**It seems that we will need a new opponent!**" Announcer bellowed. A chorus of disapproving calls rained down as a triad of firebenders came out to incinerate the pool of sick that stalled the rest of the evening's entertainment. Sokka glanced back at the line of remaining recruits. His stomach dropped at the sight of six teenagers in charcoal, including himself. _Wait. Six guards, that means six names. How many times does six go into 100. Let's see, five goes in twenty times..._ The chances of his name being drawn were less than twenty percent. Well, that's good! _I think. Wait..._

_ Well, I mean, come on. I haven't been drawn this whole time! _

Announcer reached down into the bag.

_There's no way. It'll all be fine, I'm sure of it. Relax._

He seemed to be stirring the final names, a sorcerer brewing something sinister in his cauldron. Sokka eased his eyes shut, breathing deeply, calmer than he had ever been in the past few days.

_Soon you'll be back with Aang, and Katara..._

The papers swished around his fingers.

_And Suki... you'll be with Suki._ I smile graced his lips.

"**Our replacement is...**"

_Suki..._

"**Wang!**"

* * *

**A/N: o-o Please don't kill me please don't kill me please don't kill me D8**

**I know I promised the actual action but...come on, it's already 14 pages, and cramming all of that into one chapter would just be excessive. So, here's the deal, you get this extra long not as exciting chapter, then I'll update real soon with the next (:**

**As always, thanks so much for reading! Please review, it really helps me out.**


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